Heroes
by Ra'Zara The First
Summary: With Bree and Chase trapped in Otherworld and Soad wreaking havoc in Mission Creek, what will become of the Davenport family? Find out in the finale story of the Hellcat series! (Rated T for demons, cussing, violence. OOC and AU. Last story in the Hellcat series. Whole family involved, but, you know, character limits.)
1. Chapter 1

**You guys know the drill by now.**

 **OOC, AU, T for demons and cussing and so on.**

 **If you haven't read any other story I've written, this will make no sense to you, I'm afraid.**

 **So, without further ado, Bree?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"Now, now, my good man, this is no time to be making enemies."_

 **Voltaire (on his deathbed in response to a priest asking him that he renounce Satan.)**

* * *

 _"Even demons can be polite."_

 **Mark Andrew Poe,** ** _Halloween Nightmares: The Amazing Adventures of Harry Moon_**

* * *

 ** _Ra'Zara the First proudly presents Heroes._**

 ** _Bree_**

Of all the twisted things she had ever thought she'd see in the demon world, _Satan_ wasn't one of them.

"Satan," Bree stammered. "Like, Satan from the Bible? _That_ Satan?"

One of the dragon's large heads lowered and turned a bit so that his eye was all she could see. "What is this Bible thing?"

Another head, though, rolled her eyes and turned away, nosing through a pile of trinkets - servant demons scattered out of her way - until she found what she was looking for. Carefully, she lifted the little object in her mouth and turned back to Bree, dropping it at her feet and in front of the other head's nose. " _That_ is the Bible, idiot."

Bree frowned. Indeed, Satan had dropped an old Bible before her. She carefully picked it up, pulling a face at the saliva that coated the book. Meanwhile, the head that was at her level glanced back up at the one that had gotten the book. "I don't waste time reading like you do," he hissed, baring his yellowed fangs at her.

"Excuse me," Bree interrupted, "but how are you in the Bible? How did you even _get_ a Bible?"

The head in the center seemed amused. "I can get anything I want."

"That didn't answer my first question," Bree muttered.

The head closest to her growled. "Because this is _my_ world, _my_ kingdom, _my_ home. You don't get to ask questions."

"Sorry, Satan...sir," Bree apologized quickly.

One of the heads rolled his eyes. "I hate that name. Satan this, Lucifer that, all because of that stupid little book." The dragon's tail flicked towards Bree, obviously gesturing at the Bible she still held.

"Then what should I call you?" Bree asked.

The center head seemed to smile. "I am Apollyon. I have been since the beginning of time, and I will be forever. Of course, everyone had to start calling me other things since they wrote that book. I suppose Apollyon was too boring for them, so they made up new names. Assigned some ones to me that they had no face for, too."

"And they know about you... _how?_ " Bree found herself asking.

One head snorted, rolling his eyes. "I just said not to ask questions."

Apollyon's paw rose, rubbing the eyes of one head as she hissed, "Just answer them. She's going to keep asking. Humans are curious creatures."

"Echoes of me exist in your mortal world," one of the other female heads answered. "My paw can be in everything, if I so choose. Some can even see me, if they try hard enough. That is why my description is in Revelations."

Bree's curiosity was piqued. "So...the Bible is true, then?"

The head farthest to the right frowned. "That depends. I was never an angel, but I certainly was cast from the world. Not Heaven, mind you. I've never seen anything resembling this 'Heaven' place. I was thrown from the mortal plane into this one. It's why I can still influence your world, to an extent."

"Wait," Bree interrupted. "You were on Earth?"

"It was just a lava ball back then," the head in the center explained. "It wasn't too interesting. Then, one day, a kind of veil dropped between myself and your world, rending demons and essence away from the mortal plane. I've been here ever since."

Bree was stunned. "That would mean..."

"That I am billions of years old?" one head asked.

"That essence was once a part of your world?" another piped up.

"That your perception of history changed?" asked a third.

"That someone had to create this world and banish you to it," Bree finished. "A God - Gods, even - would have had to make it."

All seven heads started laughing. "It was random chance," one chortled.

Bree didn't believe it, though. That something as large and powerful as Apollyon - and other demons, possibly - had once roamed the Earth, but was sent away from the world before they could do any damage to the life that had formed there...

Bree wasn't spiritual at all, but she was having a hard time convincing herself that a scientific explanation was available here.

When Apollyon had finally pulled himself together, one of his heads reached down and nudged her towards Chase. "Well? You're here for your brother, are you not?"

Bree dug her heels into the ground. "You said he'd attack me."

"He won't any longer," one of the heads said, her eyes mischievous. "I can't have slaves killing each other. I would run out of workers."

"Slaves?" Bree echoed, dread rising in her.

"Slaves," the center head hissed. "I'm already bored with you, so start cleaning my things."

Bree narrowed her eyes defiantly. "I'm not a slave, and neither is Chase."

"Oh, he's not? What a pity. I guess I'll have to take care of that, then."

Before Bree could ask what Apollyon meant, Chase stiffened and bolted towards the side of the cavern towards a small lava pool. Bree felt the blood drain from her face. "Wait! Don't kill him!"

Chase stopped as Apollyon fixed her with a look. "Why? If he's not mine, then I have no use for him. Besides, if you're worried about never seeing him again, don't. You'll be joining him in the pool shortly."

"I'll do anything you ask," Bree said quickly.

"Ha!" Apollyon's seven heads smirked at her. "And you thought you weren't a slave." One of the heads nudged her towards Chase, who was picking up a helm and polishing it. "Get cleaning. Oh, and get comfortable, because you're never going to leave."


	2. Chapter 2

**Adam?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"The key to everything is patience. You get the chicken by hatching the egg, not by smashing it."_

 **Arnold H. Glasow**

* * *

 _"The wisest are the most annoyed at the loss of time."_

 **Dante Alighieri**

* * *

 ** _Adam_**

"How much farther?" Adam found himself whining for what had to be the hundredth time.

"We'll probably be there by evening, Adam," Mr. Davenport practically forced out, annoyance plain on his features.

Adam sighed heavily while Yahn shifted his perch on Adam's shoulder. Leaving Mission Creek had been intense, stressful, and somewhat _exciting._ The threat of demon patrols, Hunter raids and even Soad himself had added a dangerous thrill to the endeavor, especially when Bree had to be coaxed the entire way. It added an addictive adrenaline rush to an otherwise normal walk.

Not that Adam liked his little sister in her vegetative state. He wished Chase would get his tail in gear and fix her already.

Now, though, they were well out of the ruins of Mission Creek. With the bulk of the threat behind them, their journey had become…well, _tedious._ It was nothing more than walking along the highway, their focus on the skyline of Los Angeles ahead.

It was nothing but grass and pavement. The sun had decided to heat the earth quite a bit today, too, so it wasn't only boring, it was also annoyingly warm. There wasn't even a merciful breeze to cool them down. Combine that with the lovely gnawing hunger in his stomach – they hadn't eaten since the morning before - and he wasn't having fun.

Several minutes passed silently, except for Bree's noisy, stumbling footsteps. A few cars passed them, but no one stopped to offer them a ride into town. What gave? They had saved the world before, and this was the thanks they got? Forced to walk from one town to the next like animals. A few more cars passed before Adam sighed, unable to contain himself. "How much far-"

A loud hiss from Yahn interrupted him as the imp jumped from his perch to the shoulder on Adam's blind side, digging his claws into Adam's shirt as something jolted him. Mr. Davenport disappeared from Adam's view, switching rapidly to his blind spot. Tasha had stopped Bree and was rubbing her eyes, sighing. Adam didn't even have to turn his head to figure out what everyone was focused on at the moment. Douglas was howling his rage to the heavens.

When Adam _did_ actually turn his head to look – he missed having the use of both eyes – Mr. Davenport and Leo were holding Douglas back, Ysthry roaring her small, high-pitched roar and flying around them all, acid dripping regularly from her mouth. Douglas himself was struggling hard, brandishing a large stick towards Adam. "God damn it, Adam, shut the hell up!"

Adam frowned. "I was just asking."

" _For the millionth time!"_ Douglas practically roared, straining hard towards Adam again. "Can you just be fucking _quiet?_ "

"Don't yell at Adam just because you're upset about Kevin," Yahn huffed, picking at a splinter in his hand. Adam smiled slightly at the realization that Yahn had caught the stick when Douglas swung it the first time. It was nice to have a friend.

Especially if that friend was a guardian gargoyle imp.

"You shut up, too," Douglas hissed, narrowing his eyes at Yahn.

The imp winced, falling silent.

"Look, everyone just relax," Mr. Davenport said calmly.

"I'll relax when we tape his mouth shut," Douglas snapped, twisting away from Leo and Mr. Davenport. For a second, Adam was worried that Douglas would charge him again, but the irate man just glared at him.

"You're more than welcome to walk by yourself," Tasha offered, gesturing towards Los Angeles with her free hand. The other held firmly onto Bree's, who stared ahead blankly.

"We can't abandon him," Leo protested. At practically everyone's startled looks, he shrugged. "He'll just get bored and steal or destroy something."

A second of silence passed before everyone – Douglas included – nodded in agreement. After a moment, Douglas pointed the stick at Adam. "One more word about how long it's going to take to get there, and I swear…."

Amid the eye-rolling that followed, Adam fished around in his pocket until he found his phone. "Fine. I'll just play a game or something." He smiled slightly at the weather report that popped up on his home screen. "Oh, and it's going to rain later. How's _that_ for good news?" At everyone's astonished looks, Adam frowned. "What?"

"You're getting _live_ weather reports on your phone?" Leo asked.

Adam nodded, shrugging. "Duh. I have it set up like that."

Mr. Davenport sighed. "Adam, if you're getting live reports, than it means that you're getting a _signal."_

Adam rolled his eyes. "Yep."

Tasha practically jumped for joy. "We must be close enough to the city for the towers to be working again! We can call someone to come get us!"

Douglas wrinkled his nose. "Like a taxi or something? Do you know what happens in taxis?"

"People get rides to places?" Leo replied, rolling his eyes.

Douglas snorted. "Okay, let me tell you some of my experiences in a taxi."

"Family friendly," Mr. Davenport warned, focused on finding a number he could call to get them a ride.

Douglas was quiet for a moment, obviously lost in thought. He rubbed at the beard that had started to grow in on his chin, then shrugged. "I don't have any family friendly stories about taxis. Just know that they aren't the most sanitary places."

While Adam was confused about this vague statement (for only a moment), Tasha wrinkled her nose as Leo visibly suppressed a gag. "That's _disgusting."_

Douglas shrugged. "Alcohol makes me impulsive. Don't judge. Besides, I was younger back then."

Mr. Davenport cuffed the back of Douglas' head gently, his missing fingers softening the blow considerably. "I didn't say you could disguise it in an implication."

"You're lucky I dialed it back to _that,"_ Douglas retorted, crossing his arms.

Mr. Davenport rolled his eyes. "Anyways, we're not even using a taxi. Imagine it: _Me_ in a taxi. _Me._ No, we're calling a limo."

Douglas smirked. "Want me to tell you about the back of limos, too? More room back there."

Adam swallowed bile. "Maybe we should just walk the rest of the way."

"Or," Leo began, "we could-"

"Douglas is making up the part about limos," Mr. Davenport interrupted.

"How do you know, Don?" Douglas challenged.

"Because, nine times out of ten, _I_ had to pay the cab fare when you arrived," Mr. Davenport snorted. "Never once had to pay for a limo."

Douglas muttered something inappropriate, his cheeks turning a bit red at having been discredited.

In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Mr. Davenport arranged to have them picked up. When he finally hung up the phone, he smiled at Adam. "To answer your question, Adam, we'll be there within the hour."

Adam grinned. "Then we get to eat?"

Mr. Davenport nodded again.

Adam let out a whoop. "Let's go!"

"We have to wait for the limo to get here," Tasha responded.

Adam frowned, looked at the road, and looked back at Tasha. "So…how much longer?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Azulatano:** **Most of these answers are that you'll just have to read and see, but a few, I will answer. Mainly because I yell questions like this at movies all the time.**

 **Davenport's general plan was to just rent the limo, not actually buy it. Davenport wouldn't be caught dead in a cab or a minivan with enough room for everyone. Just no. Not him. As for the state of the city, it's fine for now. Soad hasn't ventured too far out of Mission Creek just yet. I like to think that there's enough space between Los Angeles and Mission Creek and the nearby cities for LA to be safe. For now. Also, Davenport's money was in a bank. Unless someone specifically destroys the infrastructure of every bank in the nation or attacks the accounts personally (which Douglas has done), the money's still there, safe and sound. Fortunately for him, he actually does have enough to start over. Unfortunately, most everyone else does not, which we're gonna see pretty soon.**

 **Kevin?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"Nobody can hurt me without my permission."_

 **Mahatma Gandhi**

* * *

 _"Be strong. Live honorably and with dignity. When you don't think you can, hold on."_

 **James Frey,** ** _A Million Little Pieces_**

* * *

 ** _Kevin_**

When they first started dating, Kevin and Douglas had played a kind of question game over dinner once to get to know each other better. What were your dreams as a kid, did you ever do anything you're still embarrassed about, things like that. Of course, a few drinks later, the questions had evolved into more unlikely nonsense than anything else.

The one that Kevin kept thinking about now was one Douglas had asked towards the end of the evening. _"If you were a prisoner or something, how would you handle it?"_

Kevin had passed buzzed quite a while before that, and had given an answer that seemed reasonable at the time. " _I'd make myself as annoying as possible. Eventually, they'd decide that I wasn't worth the trouble and let me go."_

Back then, both had laughed about it. Now that Kevin was actually in the situation, though….

There was nothing funny about this. Nothing at all. And he sure as hell wasn't about to make himself annoying. Knowing James, torture was a very real threat if Kevin wore the man's patience thin too quickly.

Not that he wasn't already. Three days of not telling James what he wanted to know, and James was already looking like he was going to kill Kevin to amuse himself. Honestly, he had a feeling that the only reason he wasn't dead already was because Missy was running interference. He wished she wouldn't – it was a great risk to her and anyone who was helping her – but he couldn't say that he wasn't even the slightest bit grateful and significantly touched by her willingness to help him.

The newest Hunter recruits – random survivors from the attacks, Kevin had learned – were mostly helping Missy out. At the very least, her group of trainees was. They would often run food or something down to Kevin when it was too suspicious for Missy herself to leave the main area. It was a god-send, especially since James made no effort to actually allow Kevin any food. Sometimes, they would sit and talk to him, something else he enjoyed. When Missy talked, it was usually about how she was trying to hide her treachery from James and the others or asking about how to actually fight Soad.

Kevin wouldn't tell her, on the off chance that she actually was working for James all along. He did enjoy the company, though.

The recruits, however, often talked about their families and their lives before they even knew demons existed. It was a welcome distraction to Kevin from his less-than-comfortable accommodations – being chained to a stake in such a way that he was standing waist-deep in raw sewage constantly (he'd even fallen completely in it when he'd fallen asleep a few times) wasn't great – and he thought they enjoyed talking to someone who wasn't constantly thinking of how to fight demons. Maybe it made them feel more like humans again instead of soldiers. Who knew?

It was Sam who visited the most, though. She had seemed completely relieved that the Davenport family had survived. She had been less than happy about the fact that he had no news about her own family, but she didn't seem to hold that against him. In fact, she was the one who continued to insist that Kevin let somebody set his broken arm. Or that he at least took some painkillers for it.

That wasn't going to happen. He wasn't keen on the idea of Hunters further damaging his arm until he told them what he knew about Soad. As for painkillers, they were likely in very short supply. He wasn't about to let them waste them on him. Besides, his arm was healing on its own. It was at a very wrong angle, but it was healing, damn it! The only real worry he had was the throbbing burn that had started a few days ago in his leg. He had a sneaking suspicion that an injury had become infected, but he couldn't tell. It was constantly submerged in filth.

Hey, if it killed him, at least he'd be out of the situation. He didn't put it past Douglas to have figured out Soad's weakness like Kevin had, anyways. He was clever, after all. He had made a pack of robot kids, after all. No, Kevin likely wouldn't take the secret with him when he died.

Hopefully.

He found himself wondering fleetingly if Perry had survived. He knew it was very unlikely, but he could still hope, right? No one deserved to be left at the mercy of Soad's army of demons. Not even Perry.

Footsteps echoed down the tunnel, breaking Kevin out of his thoughts. He looked at the manhole cover over his head, noting that sun shone straight through the holes. By his guess, it was noon, which meant that his visitor was most likely James.

Wonderful. Here came another annoying round of questioning.

James rounded the corner, his flashlight aimed right at Kevin. He approached silently, not scowling like usual. Instead, he seemed almost smug.

Kevin didn't dwell on it. He gave James a tight smile. "Hi again. I'm still not telling you."

Instead of his usual ranting, James just reached in his pocket and pulled something out, shining the light on it. "I have a present."

Kevin found himself unable to speak now. James was holding a small bag of amphetamines. Where Kevin had been able to resist it a few days ago, now he found himself weakening at the sight.

 _Just one,_ he found himself thinking, the cravings brought on by withdrawal now hitting him full force. It was so close, within his reach, even. _Just one, and I can escape this place for a while._

James' eyes lit up triumphantly. "Every useful thing you tell me earns you one pill. Just like our old deal."

Kevin swallowed hard. Though everything was screaming at him now to give in, he shook his head. "No."

"You'll change your mind," James responded with a shrug, sitting down on the dry ledge nearby. "You always did. I doubt you changed now, speed freak."

Kevin backed as far away as he could, but he was afraid that James was right. With the temptation right in front of him, Kevin might not be able to last long at all.

* * *

 _"Every now and then I like to do as I'm told, just to confuse people."_

 **Tamora Pierce,** ** _Melting Stones (The Circle Reforged, #3)_**

* * *

 _"Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat."_

 **F. Scott Fitzgerald**

* * *

 ** _Olyanaeci_**

Oly watched a small patrol of military personnel as they picked their way quietly through Mission Creek. It was a far cry from the large entrance they had made the last time, according to Master. A few people would be harder to detect than a tank. And, though the camp was obviously nowhere near as close to Mission Creek as the one that Soad had destroyed, Oly had no doubt that there was one nearby. The people had to come from somewhere, after all.

Oly yawned, watching them for a bit longer. Of all the boring tasks Master had ever sent her on, this definitely was one of the worst. Who cared what happened to that Hunter and that Perry woman? They were both annoying, as far as Oly was concerned. Still, orders were orders, and she had to follow them. After a few more moments, Oly loosened her form and reassembled herself as Bree. Now appearing human, she ran towards the soldiers, forcing herself to sound panicked. "Help! Help!"

The soldiers almost immediately aimed their guns at her before lowering them, the word human reaching Oly's ears. She slid to a stop near them, waving dramatically. "Help! My aunt, she's hurt!"

One reached out, patting her shoulder. "Okay, calm down. Where is she?"

Oly spun around on her heels and lead them through a maze of rubble, using the tank as a landmark until she reached the pile of debris. With the soldiers on her heels, she slid to a stop and pointed. "There! I think she broke her back!"

Oly watched as a few soldiers passed her to follow a streak of blood across the ground. She allowed a few other soldiers to lead her away as they went, knowing that, at the end of the blood trail, they would find Perry. Unconscious from having strained herself too much by dragging herself several feet, but, miraculously, still alive.


	4. Chapter 4

**AzulaTano : I don't think anything can kill Perry. Ever. :P As for Bree and Chase...**

 **Chase?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"I am no bird, and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will_."

 **Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre_**

* * *

" _Better to die fighting for freedom than be a prisoner all the days of your life_."

 **Bob Marley**

* * *

 _ **Bree**_

"And see this one?" Chase eagerly pointed at a small gem in a coronet he was polishing. "It's a black opal. It's extremely rare! It's almost exclusively found in the Lightning Ridge mine in New South Wales. It's also the national gemstone of Australia!"

Bree nodded, trying not to show just how bored she was. Why he was excited about a black rock with rainbow flecks was beyond her. Sure, it was pretty. She could do without the lesson, though. If anything, it made polishing things harder than it should've been. Besides, if it was just essence like everything else in the forsaken Otherworld, then she could make enough to make them worthless with just a thought.

As if reading her mind, Chasetapped it, his eyes shining. "More importantly, it's _real._ It's not made of essence. It's from Earth. One of these would cost several thousand dollars, and I'm handling it for free! I never thought I'd get to _see_ one of these, let alone get to examine it!" With that, his eye started glowing as he ran his bionic scanner over the stone.

 _It's not yours_ , Bree thought, but she didn't say it. Instead, she just sighed and continued to clean the cup she'd picked up. She glared at Apollyon, who had curled up in a large lava pool to watch everyone. If it wasn't for him, she and Chase could be home already.

However they could get home from here, that was.

Bree sighed, wanting to throw the cup at the dragon. Even if Apollyon hadn't interfered with Chase's free will, they still had no way of knowing how to get home. They'd still be stuck here.

Possibly forever.

 _You missed a spot_.

Bree glared at Apollyon. One of the heads was actually winking at her, almost laughing. Maybe he had control of her, too, since he was obviously in her head. He hadn't actually influenced her actions, though. Maybe he was just waiting for the right time to use it.

Or maybe she wouldn't know she was being controlled.

Bree let out a frustrated sigh. It was the Triton App all over again, except with a dragon. Beautiful.

Bree carelessly tossed the polished cup onto the growing pile of shined artifacts and grabbed a handle, tugging a half-buried treasure from the pile. When it wouldn't budge, Bree ground her teeth and tugged sharply. There was no way some stupid little trinket was going to get the best of her!

When it slid free from the pile, the unexpected weight caused Bree to stumble and fall, dropping the object with a loud clang. Apollyon laughed - at least, a few of his heads did - and Bree scowled, getting up quickly and trying to hide her embarrassment.

"Careful with that," one of the heads that wasn't laughing growled. "That sword is worth more than you and your brother combined!"

 _Sword_? Bree thought, carefully picking up the heavy blade. It seemed to fit her hand perfectly, like the weapon had been forged for her. That was impossible, though. The sword was doubtlessly hundreds of years old. Besides, she could barely lift the long blade off the ground, much less actually swing it.

Who knew swords were so heavy?

After a second of trying to move it without dragging the tip on the ground, Bree sighed. "Hellcat? Can you help me move this thing?"

Chase looked up from the ancient book he was inspecting only to cringe. "Sure, but...Hold on a second." He wrapped his polishing clothes thickly around his hands before grabbing the hilt, his hands resting over Bree's own.

Together, they both carried the sword until it was back at the pile, Chase backing way away from it when the task was done. Bree frowned. It wasn't silver. She might not be the best at metals, but she could tell that much. So what was Chase's problem?

"Who cares?" Apollyon growled, rolling her eyes. "Just polish it and move on."

Bree rolled her eyes, but polished the blade carefully.

It really was a beautiful sword...

* * *

" _War is a soul-shattering experience for the innocent_."

 **Suzy Kassem** , _**Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem**_

* * *

 _ **"** No one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark. **"**_

 **Warsan Shire, _Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth_**

* * *

 _ **Leo**_

When Mr. Davenport had asked that they be dropped off wherever the refugees from Mission Creek were being housed, Leo hadn't expected this.

Judging by the look on Mr. Davenport's face, neither had he.

Crowded together in the Los Angeles community center, hundreds of people were sitting on cots or walking around aimlessly, depressed hopelessness in their eyes. People they had known before, now homeless. A few classmates without parents. Sometimes, parents without kids. Some were lucky enough to know where their loved one was, if hospitalized could be considered lucky.

Others either planned funerals or clung to the hope that their missing loved one would be found.

It was here that Leo discovered that Janelle and her father had been trapped inside when her burning home collapsed. Her mother wasn't handling it well at all. Practically no one could get her to move off her cot.

It was here that it was discovered that a few classmates - Trent included - had lost one or both of their parents. They were terrified. Where they might have resented their parents telling them what to do in the past, they visibly longed for that direction now.

"Why did we come here?" Douglas whined, breaking into Leo's stunned thoughts. "They look like every other group of refugees I've ever seen. Let's go somewhere more cheerful."

"Shut up, Douglas," Mr. Davenport muttered, but it was clear that he wasn't focusing on his brother's complaining. Instead, his eyes were wandering over the crowd, filled with emotions ranging from sorrow to disbelief.

Douglas rolled his eyes. "Okay. You can admire the view. I'll be outside if you need me." With that, Douglas brushed past Adam and marched away.

Adam pulled a face. "It _is_ really depressing here, Mr. Davenport." From inside his pocket, Yahn squeaked his agreement, nodding his little mouse head.

"It's not too bad," Tasha tried.

"What's the good part?" Ysthry asked, poking her head out of Leo's pocket. Why they both chose mouse, he'd never know.

"Well, it has a roof..." Tasha tried again, but she ended up falling silent. There was no positive way to spin the place. Sure, it was temporary shelter, but what happened when that ended? The people couldn't stay here forever.

Mr. Davenport's eyes landed on the table of volunteers, watching as they handed out meager rations to people. Suddenly, his temper visibly flared. " _That's_ not going to be enough for everyone! Maybe a few crackers a piece?!"

Tasha rubbed his shoulders. "Don, there's nothing we can do. Relax."

Mr. Davenport only seemed more infuriated by that. "Nothing? We can do _nothing_? Tasha, honey, I love you, but it's like you just don't know me at all."

Leo wanted to scoff. "You can't just make more food appear."

Mr. Davenport, however, was already on his phone. "You watch me."

* * *

 _"Taking Mum's hand, I whispered, 'Are we really safe, here?'"_

 **Alwyn Evans, _Walk in My Shoes_**

* * *

 _"When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching - they are your family."_

 **Jim Butcher**

* * *

 _ **Douglas**_

Douglas glared at Donald, impatient. Why was he on the phone? Who could he _possibly_ be calling? Unless he was making reservations at a five-star hotel, Douglas was about to break his phone.

The screams of children broke into Douglas' thoughts. He rolled his eyes. No matter where it was, refugee areas were all the same. Screaming children and upset adults. Douglas glared towards the screaming only to have a kid barrel into him. Douglas stumbled back, shocked. When he regained his footing, he glared down. "Watch it!"

The kid couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old. And, to Douglas' complete astonishment, hid behind him

Douglas wanted to send the kid packing. He had just _yelled_ at the kid, but the kid was now using him as a shield? From _what_? And where was the fear that yelling usually invoked in the hearts of children? Did they fear _nothing_ anymore? "What the hell?"

"They're trying to take my snack," the kid explained, pointing at a group of older children and holding up a small package of peanut butter crackers. The kids were watching him, obviously waiting for Douglas to leave so that they could strike.

Douglas scowled. "Then go eat them by your parents."

"I don't have parents," the kid mumbled, looking down. "The monsters ate them."

Douglas glared at the older kids again. He knew that look all too well. Don had given him the same one whenever he was about to give Douglas a beating from hell. He sighed, running his hand down his face. He was going soft. He had to be. "Fine. You can eat them here. I'll make sure they stay back."

The kid smiled slightly. "Thanks, mister." With that, he sat at Douglas' feet, pulling the package open.

Douglas felt himself smiling before he sat down beside the kid. "Don't call me 'mister.' It makes me feel old. Call me Douglas."

The kid giggled, obviously tickled at the idea of calling an adult by their first name. "Okay, Douglas. But only if you call me Trevor."

Douglas grinned. "Deal."


	5. Chapter 5

**AzulaTano:** **I like to think Douglas just likes kids. He spent years obsessively trying to get his own back, right?**

 **And the sword is vital. :P But I'm not telling you why just yet.**

 **Shades of X:** **:3 Thank you so much!**

 **Guest:** **Thank you. :3**

 **Ysthry?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"Give what you have. To someone, it may be better than you dare to think."_

 **Henry Wadsworth Longfellow**

* * *

 _"Generosity is not giving me that which I need that you do, but it is giving me that which you need more that I do."_

 **Kahlil Gibran,** ** _Sand and Foam_**

* * *

 ** _Adam_**

A few hours after they arrived and Mr. Davenport had said he was doing something to help, he was standing on a table, trying to get everyone's attention. It was pretty funny to watch, honestly. Adam was rubbing Yahn's head as Mr. Davenport pleaded through a megaphone. "Guys, I know this whole situation sucks, but if you'd pay attention for a few minutes, I _promise_ that I can make it better."

Of course, no one listened. They had likely been promised this type of thing since they had arrived. Now, some rich man was going to help them? No way. So they continued to talk among themselves, no matter what Mr. Davenport said. It likely wouldn't help anything.

No one caring about what Mr. Davenport thought he was important enough to be doing? Ah, normalcy.

After a few minutes of this pleading charade, Douglas' voice caught Adam's attention. "What's he doing?"

Adam jumped a bit, wanting to hit Douglas soundly. Why did he _always_ have to come up on his blind side? It was so inconsiderate!

Tasha, however, broke into Adam's thoughts. "Douglas? Who's this?"

Adam turned his head to see Douglas holding the hand of a kid who couldn't be older than eight. Douglas shrugged as if it was nothing. "Trevor. Anyways, Don is doing…?"

Tasha sighed, ignoring the question again. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

Douglas scowled. "I didn't kidnap anybody, if that's what you're implying. _He_ came to _me."_

Tasha raised an eyebrow. "Really? _You_ didn't kidnap him?"

Douglas covered his heart with his free hand dramatically, gasping. "Your accusations! They're like daggers in my heart! I would _never –"_

"Yes, you would," Leo cut in, snorting.

Adam rolled his eyes before nudging Trevor. "Where are your parents?"

Trevor pressed closer to Douglas' side shyly, squeezing his hand. "The monsters ate them."

"Monsters?" Adam repeated, frowning.

"The demons, I think," Douglas supplied quietly. "He's by himself here."

Trevor pointed at Bree. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's in a vegetative state," Douglas answered. "Can't really do anything anymore. Probably isn't even aware of where she is."

"Oh. Did the monsters do that?"

Adam winced. Technically, the "monsters" _had_ done that, and he hadn't been fast enough to save her. He avoided her blank stare guiltily.

"Anyways, Donnie? Is he trying to tell everyone how great he is? Again?" Douglas pointed at the table, where Mr. Davenport was still making futile attempts at getting everyone's attention.

Tasha sighed. "I don't actually know what he's trying to do this time. He said something about helping everybody here, but didn't elaborate."

Douglas rolled his eyes. "He can't save everybody."

Trevor started tugging on Douglas' shirt. "Can't he just set off the siren on the bullhorn thing? That's how the teachers got our attention when we were playing outside."

"Hey, that's a good idea," Leo said. He pulled Ysthry out of his pocket – she was still a mouse and looked rather angry at being disturbed – and said, "Go tell Mr. Davenport to set the siren off."

Ysthry winced, but hopped down to the floor, scurrying away through the crowd.

Trevor frowned. "Is that mouse trained?"

"No," Adam said. "She's-"

"Something we're going to talk about much, much later," Douglas interrupted, shooting Adam a look.

Yahn climbed up Adam's shirt, his little mouse tail flicking a bit to keep his balance before perching on Adam's shoulder, pretending to wash his whiskers as he whispered, "Demons killed the kid's family. Mentioning that imps are around might make him panic."

Adam nodded as the loudest siren tore through the air, catching everyone's attention instantly. Probably because it echoed around the room, making it twice as loud. Still, everybody fell silent, glaring at Mr. Davenport as he turned the siren off. "Now that you're _quiet_ ," Mr. Davenport began, almost snorting, "I have something that's going to make you feel slightly better." He knelt down and picked up a clipboard. "There are twelve of these up here. What is on them is a list of available rooms of three different hotels."

Instantly, the crowd protested. "We don't have the money to stay in a hotel long-term!"

"What happens _after_ we have to leave the hotels? We can't rebuild!"

"I don't want to go somewhere just to come back here a few days later!"

Mr. Davenport set off the siren again, restoring silence. "Let me finish. You'll be staying there for two months. It's already paid for. The meals, the housekeeping, the basic comforts of home, _all_ of it."

This time, a quiet murmuring rose from everybody.

Mr. Davenport went on. "All you have to do is sign up for your room. The city is sending buses out to take you there. The only thing we ask is that families try to room together. We don't have enough for everyone's kids to have a separate room from their parents."

More murmuring followed.

"Now, please, if we could just line up, we can get everyone out of here by tonight," Mr. Davenport concluded. He then switched off the bullhorn and hopped down from the table, almost bolting out of the way to avoid the surge of people trying to sign up for a room. He was lost to view almost instantly.

Adam frowned. How did Mr. Davenport get three different hotels to agree to that?

Tasha, however, smiled a bit. "I wonder how much money Don had to spend to make that happen."

Douglas shrugged, Trevor still clinging to his hand. "Enough that he likely cried setting it up."

Leo snickered, but Adam frowned thoughtfully. Mr. Davenport had paid for the whole thing? It was so _selfless._

Whatever Adam had thought of Mr. Davenport before, the word "stingy" never came to mind again.


	6. Chapter 6

**AzulaTano:** **:3 Dougie's just a stalker-ish sweetheart.**

 **DD4L:** **Gonna have to read. :3**

 **Guest:** **This would be a much shorter story if it was only Bree and Chase.**

 **Shades of X:** **Well, not everybody….**

 **James?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"Never open the door to a lesser evil, for other and greater ones invariably slink in after it."_

 **Baltasar Gracián,** ** _The Art of Worldly Wisdom_**

* * *

 _"Neither love nor evil conquers all, but evil cheats more."_

 **Laurell K. Hamilton** ** _, Cerulean Sins_**

* * *

 ** _James_**

The traitor wouldn't talk.

James stalked through the tunnels of the sewer alone, thinking. It had always been easy to get Kevin to talk before. Show him a pill, and he was an open book. Now, though….

He seemed to be making an effort to seriously get clean. James supposed it was good for Kevin's health.

It was bad for James, though.

Even starvation wasn't working. It was startling. Kevin should be babbling non-stop about any and everything he knew just to get some water at this point. _Especially_ anything about Soad's weakness.

Soad was a very real threat to the entire world. He was the kind of demon that the Bible warned about. The strong ones who could bring humanity down. Maybe it _was_ the Apocalypse. Who knew? Maybe God was punishing everyone.

James wouldn't allow it to happen, though. Not without a fight, at least. James liked this world. He didn't want it to end. And, if Kevin had the answer to killing Soad, then he needed to talk. _Immediately._ Especially since he seemed to be getting sicker as days progressed.

Maybe setting him waist-deep in filth when he was injured was a bad move. They didn't have the medical ability to cope with strong infections.

James set his jaw. That just meant that Kevin needed to talk. If the secret died with him, then they would be back at square one.

The problem was that he was being stubborn in an attempt to save his own life. What happened to the demon killer in that man? Sure, he had always been a somewhat unwilling member, but James had seen Kevin work miracles against monsters with his knives. His civic sense of duty should force him to act.

Maybe his tactic involved the Summoners he seemed hell-bent on protecting.

James paused mid-stride. Maybe not all Summoners were stopping him. Maybe it was just one.

Sitting on the ledge, James frowned thoughtfully. Maybe Kevin didn't care about Summoners at all. Maybe he just cared about the one that was his boyfriend. What was his name again? Douglas? Love tended to make people do crazy things.

Stupid things… _selfless_ things….

James felt like an idiot when the idea finally hit him. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner? It would have saved him a lot of headaches trying to get Kevin to talk before. If they had Douglas, then one or the other would likely spill all the secrets in the world to save their lover. Then, when they had given everything up, _both_ could be killed. It was a win-win situation!

James grinned, standing up again. One way or the other, they'd get their answers.

* * *

 _"The love of knowledge is a kind of madness."_

 **C.S. Lewis** ** _, Out of the Silent Planet_**

* * *

 _"Curiosity is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous intellect."_

 **Samuel Johnson** ** _, The Rambler_**

* * *

 ** _Bree_**

"And the pattern? Why does it look like running water?"

Chase yawned, flicking his ears. He seemed to be getting annoyed at having to explain something for once. "The blade looks like that because it's Damascus steel. The technique to make it was lost a long time ago."

Bree looked at the sword again. She had become incredibly fascinated by the weapon, to her surprise. She wanted to know any and everything she could about the sword. "So it's old?"

"Yes," Chase growled, "it's old." He rolled over so that he wasn't facing her anymore. "Bree, I'm tired."

 _Because Satan has you polishing all day like a slave,_ Bree thought. _Not that you seem to mind, for some reason._ She nudged him, anyways. "Why won't you touch it?"

"Because it's magic," he hissed. "Dangerous magic. It's radiating enough power that I feel like it'll burn my fur off. I don't want to mess with it."

Bree frowned, running her fingers over the cool steel. She wasn't having any trouble touching it. Maybe it was some kind of demon-slaying sword? Who knew?

Well, Apollyon probably knew, but he would likely not tell.

Speaking of Apollyon, the only reason Bree was even able to handle the sword now was that Apollyon had decided to fly around outside of his cave. She had no idea when he'd be back, so she wanted to spend as much time learning about the weapon as she possibly could.

That meant both she and Chase had to stay awake, even if he was incredibly reluctant to do so. She wanted to know what was so endlessly fascinating about the thing. Why was _she_ drawn to it? She had never been interested in swords before in her life. It seemed like more of a Leo thing than hers. He was the weapon guy. She was a weapon herself. She didn't _need_ a sword.

Well, if she wanted to get technical about it, she wasn't bionic here. Still, she could defend herself.

Right?

Yeah!

She nudged Chase again. "Why is it so heavy?"

"Because it's a _sword,_ " Chase growled, pinning his ears. "It's kind of big and made of metal. Did you think it would be _light?_ "

"But they lift swords so easily in movies," Bree protested.

"Because they train with them! Bree, seriously, _go to sleep._ " Chase curled up a bit, covering his head with a wing.

Bree rolled her eyes. Apparently, he was done talking. She ran her fingers over the blade again, careful to avoid the sharp edges. She sure would like to know how to use it. Maybe it would get them out from under Apollyon's paw. With a sigh, Bree laid down and closed her eyes. Wishful thinking would get her nowhere. She needed a plan.

It would be a hell of a lot easier to think of one if Apollyon couldn't hear her thoughts, though.

Maybe she could wear a tinfoil hat. That might do it. Maybe she could break his control _then._

Well, his control over Chase, at least. Then, he couldn't hold her brother hostage over her head.

Bree sat up suddenly. Apollyon obviously had control over Chase, but what had he made _her_ do? All he had done was put thoughts in her head. He seemed unable to force her to do them. If he could, then he wouldn't have used Chase to get her to do what he wanted to in the first place. Was it because she was human? Was it because Chase was half-demon? Could Apollyon really only suggest things to her?

Bree leaned back against a pile of trinkets, resting her hands on her stomach thoughtfully. If it was true, then the whole game might have changed a bit in her favor.


	7. Chapter 7

**AzulaTano: Sure, Dougie's fine. :3 **

**...Well, except for...**

 **Nah, I'm sure it's nothing.**

 **Shades of X:** **James is insanely clever, rather like Apollyon. Just not quite as powerful.**

 **DD4L and Guests: Thanks :3**

 **Bree?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"If you are going through hell, keep going."_

 **Winston S. Churchill**

* * *

 _"The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones."_

 **Confucius** ** _, Confucius: The Analects_**

* * *

 ** _Bree_**

Bree spent the next several days practicing the manipulation of physics.

She picked the heaviest of items she could find in Apollyon's hoard and attempt to lift them. More often than not, she failed at it. She was so dead-set on the idea of Earth's gravity that she couldn't seem to let it go. She could roll a few things, but that was it.

Stupid gravity. Stupid memory of gravity.

Chase was always so cheerfully polishing things that Bree wanted to kick him. How could he be happy? How could he not be aware that he was being controlled? It was so irritating. _So_ irritating!

She was determined to break Apollyon's hold, if only so that she could make sure Chase knew she was annoyed at him for his seemingly weak will.

Bree knew, in the back of her mind, that Apollyon was aware that she was practicing. A few heads would give her an amused or annoyed look occasionally. However, he seemed not to mind all that much.

 _You'll never succeed, little girl,_ one of the heads thought at her. _You're too in love with Earth._

These thoughts had been occurring for as long as she had been trying.

They only made her more determined to succeed.

Occasionally, she found herself lifting large things without thinking about it. She had no idea how. She hadn't even been thinking about it when she did. When she realized that she was lifting something she shouldn't have been able to, it immediately became too heavy for her to hold. It was annoying. How could she manipulate physics when it only worked if she wasn't aware that she was doing it? It was almost more annoying than Chase being controlled.

One good thing, however, was that Bree found herself getting stronger.

The sword was no longer impossible to lift. She could now lift its tip off the ground an inch or two. She could only hold it up for a second or two, but she could lift it! Besides that, she kept the blade shining, the water pattern throughout the metal gleaming beautifully in the light from the lava pools that filled the place.

This was something that annoyed Chase. He would grumble about how he had to polish extra treasures because she spent so much time cleaning the blade. However, he wouldn't touch the blade himself still. The magic he said it radiated deterred him from touching it, so she had to clean it every day.

It was all fine with her. She was perfectly happy cleaning and studying the sword. _Her_ sword, as she had started to think of it. She knew it wasn't true. It was Apollyon's sword, not hers. But she couldn't help but think of it as hers. She cleaned it. She studied it. It was as if it was a prized possession of hers. It was certainly the only thing she didn't mind polishing.

If only she could pick it up fully. She didn't know how to wield it, but she could show it the respect a weapon like it deserved by carrying it properly. Maybe its magic would activate, and she and Chase could somehow escape because of it. She hadn't come up with a plan that would actually work yet on her own. A magic sword of dumb luck would certainly help.

 _You'll never succeed, little girl. Give up._

Bree set her jaw, setting the sword aside awkwardly because of the weight. She was going to escape, damn it! It would be nice if she could take the sword with her, though. If only to spit in Apollyon's face.

* * *

 _"When angry, count four. When very angry, swear."_

 **Mark Twain**

* * *

 _"The bittersweet about truth is that nothing could be more hurtful, yet nothing could be more helpful."_

 **Mike Norton** ** _, Just Another War Story_**

* * *

 ** _Perry_**

"For Christ's sake, I don't know."

The soldier – or sergeant, maybe? Whoever was bothering her – sighed heavily. "Ma'am, if there are survivors in Mission Creek still –"

"Then I don't know where they are," Perry snapped, her hands tightening on the armrests of her wheelchair. Stupid chair. She wished she wasn't stuck in it now, but her legs just wouldn't work anymore.

"You saw them, though, right?" The man was persistent. "What direction did they head in?"

"I don't know," Perry snapped. She hated being interviewed. "North, maybe? I was kind of focused on them leaving me to die!"

"And taking a prisoner?"

"For the tenth time, _yes,"_ Perry hissed. May they kill Kevin. That would leave Douglas single and mourning. Grief made people more snuggly.

The man – Perry hadn't bothered to remember his name – frowned. "Why did they take him and leave you?"

"They're crazy? Who cares?" Perry wasn't about to tell anyone else that she had summoned a demon, causing the Hunters to leave her to die. She didn't know how the military would react, and she wasn't about to find out.

"Any idea where survivors might be hiding?" pressed the man.

Perry sighed heavily. "Underground? Outside the city somewhere? I don't know." She just wanted to be left alone.

The man nodded thoughtfully, writing something down. "Thank you." He stood up, finally, _thankfully,_ leaving the hospital room she had been stuck in since she woke up hours earlier.

"And shoot Xaranthi if you see her," Perry muttered before wheeling out of her room. Maybe now, she could leave. However, almost immediately, nurses were wheeling her back to her room, saying something about watching her.

Perry crossed her arms. Stupid military for wanting to talk to her. Stupid hospital, keeping her here. Stupid Hunters, leaving her behind. Stupid afrit, attempting to kill her and putting her in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

She could do nothing about the hospital and Hunters, but she _did_ promise never to summon another demon ever again. And to strangle Xaranthi when she got the chance.

Stupid afrit. Stupid demons.


	8. Chapter 8

**DD4L:** **Exactly.**

 **Shades of X:** **Xaranthi's laying low, for sure.**

 **Guest:** **Who knows?**

 **AzulaTano:** **Protip: Apollyon's the king of demons….Or is he?**

 **Queen Charlen:** **Relax. It's that magical time of year where me, every single sibling and their gold fish have our birthdays. :P Been a bit busy, you see.**

 **Missy?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats, Looney Toons or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"I am somewhat exhausted; I wonder how a battery feels when it pours electricity into a non-conductor?"_

 **Arthur Conan Doyle** ** _, The Adventure of the Dying Detective_**

* * *

 _"He doesn't necessarily need to have my DNA to be my son, for when the DNA of love flows through your heart, anyone can be a son."_

 **Ikechukwu Izuakor**

* * *

 ** _Douglas_**

He was just so tired.

If it wasn't Trevor waking him up because of a nightmare or because one of the imps got too close, it was that the bed was just way too cold and empty without Kevin. Douglas hadn't slept well in days, and it was starting to take its toll. He could barely focus, and the tiniest thing irritated him. Worse yet, Oly hadn't come back with any news. Was she still searching for Kevin and Perry, or had she simply joined Soad? It wasn't out of the question for her.

This worry had plagued him almost constantly. Even with Trevor talking to him about his friends at school over breakfast in the hotel's dining area while they were waiting for everyone else to come down from their room, Douglas couldn't pay attention. He was trying not to think up horrible things that could have happened to his boyfriend. Also, whoever was playing a Looney Tunes cartoon on loop in the lobby was about to get his neck snapped. If Douglas heard Yosemite Sam yell, " _Varmint, I'm a-gonna b-b-b-bloooow yah t'smithereenies,"_ just _one_ more time….

Also, the manager at the front desk needed to stop glaring at him if he wanted to keep his nose unbroken.

Trevor was enthusiastically talking about a girl named Jasmine as he spread jelly on a piece of toast, grinning. Douglas had been sure that somebody would have taken Trevor away from him by now, but nobody seemed to want the kid. No family members, none of his family friends, _nobody_ seemed to want to find him. It was a little sad, but Douglas wasn't complaining. The little guy had grown on him over the past few days, and Douglas wasn't fond of the idea of losing him. Sure, someone might come eventually, but until then, Douglas was perfectly fond of having him around. He was at least a distraction when Douglas was focusing too much on Mission Creek.

How were they going to get back into the city? According to the news, the military was surrounding the city now to keep Soad and the demons contained. However, they weren't going to succeed. By the time they got Soad down – if they _ever_ took Soad down – the other demons would be out and terrorizing everybody.

Douglas would _kill_ for The Arm of Raziel back. At least then, they would stand a chance against that monster. Without it, Douglas was at a loss. It would take Douglas several large demons and a few days before Douglas had enough magical energy to even scratch Soad's scales. Even then, Soad had Azazel's Bane, so magic attacks would be pointless. A missile _did_ hurt him, but only after several hits. Soad would crush the tank before they could hit him enough.

So…now what?

 _"Varmint, I'm a-gonna b-b-b-bloooow yah t'smithereenies!"_

Douglas glared in the direction of the sound, locking eyes with the desk clerk. He was going to hurt somebody, and he was going to start with the clerk for looking at him like he was hated. He never even talked to the man.

"Douglas?"

Douglas looked back at Trevor, who was looking at him with a slightly cross expression. Clearly, he wasn't happy that he was being ignored. Douglas smiled apologetically, pushing around some eggs on his plate. "Sorry, buddy."

Trevor nodded a bit. "You okay?"

Douglas nodded. Who wouldn't want to find Trevor? His family was crazy if they didn't want such a sweet kid. "I'm fine."

"Do you know that guy?" Trevor asked, glancing at the man at the desk.

Douglas shook his head. "He's nobody."

Trevor grinned. "Just a hater?"

Douglas couldn't help himself. He smiled. "Yeah, buddy. Just a hater."

"Just ignore him," Trevor advised.

Douglas nodded. For an eight-year-old, Trevor was pretty clever. It would be nice to know what the man's problem was, though.

* * *

 _"It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane."_

 **Philip K. Dick** _,_ _ **VALIS**_

* * *

 _"Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up"_

 **Veronica Roth** ** _, Divergent_**

* * *

 ** _Samantha_**

"Damn it, focus!"

Sam winced at the loud words as James accented them with a kick. Kevin winced and stirred a bit, but didn't seem to break out of his fevered delirium. He just sighed and mumbled a bit, his eyes closed. Sam tried not to stare at the scene, focusing on her task for the day: Sorting bandages.

Missy scowled. "James, he's sick."

"I can see that," James snapped. He glared at Kevin again. "Pay attention! How the hell do we kill Soad?"

"Well, if you hadn't made him stand around in sewage, then he'd likely be _fine_ right now!"

James glared at Missy again. "He's not in sewage now, is he?"

"It's a bit late for that!" Missy snapped, gesturing at the pale man on the ground. "He'll be lucky to survive another few days!"

"He'll survive," James practically snarled. He turned back to Kevin. "If he doesn't, his Summoner boyfriend will pay for it." He crouched lower to Kevin, grinning almost maniacally. "Hear that? I already got a message across the airwaves of Yosemite Sam. It's only a matter of time before we find Douglas. If you don't talk, he dies."

Kevin didn't even seem to know that anyone was talking to him. He just mumbled feverishly.

James stood up again, rolling his eyes. "Should've just put a bullet in his head when you found him, Missy. I doubt that he knows how to beat Soad at all." He pointed at Missy. "That's your problem. You're too merciful. I bet if a demon was attacking you, you'd let it tear your throat out before you kill it!"

Missy sighed. "James –"

"I don't want to hear another word from you," James hissed. "It's your fault he's here at all!" With that, James stormed away into another part of the sewer, leaving Missy alone to contemplate that statement.

Missy sighed and looked at Kevin again. "Sam, do you think you can maybe get him to drink some water?"

Sam nodded. "Okay." She fidgeted awkwardly with the bandage she was holding, biting back a question.

Missy sighed again. "What, Sam?"

Sam swallowed hard. "Is…is James always this…?"

"James didn't used to be this bad," Missy answered. "This whole Soad thing has him on edge." Before Sam could say anything else, Missy left the area, sighing.

Sam sighed, getting a bottle of water and crouching beside Kevin. How could she get Kevin to drink something when he wasn't even coherent?

Suddenly, Kevin's hand snaked out, catching Sam's arm. She bit back a yelp as his eyes snapped open. He was more lucid than she had seen since he had been moved to the medical area. He was practically radiating heat, and his skin was clammy. Sam wanted nothing more than for him to let go, but she resisted the urge to pull free. "Sam," he rasped, his voice weak but panicked. "Find him first."

Sam frowned. "Find who?"

"Douglas," Kevin hissed. "The mansion burned down, but there's a tunnel hidden in the rubble. He's down there. Find him first! Warn him!"

"A tunnel? What?" Sam had never been anywhere near a tunnel in the Davenport home.

"He's in the Lab, under the mansion," Kevin hissed. "Find him before they do!"

"Kevin, I can't leave these guys without them knowing," Sam protested. "Who knows what they'll do if they think I'm a traitor?"

Kevin, however, let go of Sam, closing his eyes again as his momentary lucidity passed.

Sam sighed. She was on her own, it seemed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Holy updates, Batman!**

 **It's late, and it's short, and I know exactly how this story ends, but getting there is kind of a challenge. Enter writer's block! So this is much shorter than usual, but it's something.**

 **PhoenixDiCaprioFeldmanWheaton:** ***They won't***

 **I have a feeling that you know who's coming up. And thank you for that. :P**

 **Mystic The Animus:** **"Please don't peg my tail."**

 **Shades of X:** **He might be. :3**

 **ForgotMyPassword:** **Remember your password. :P**

 **And thank you. :3 I can't help but wish Chase was like this, too.**

 **So, let's go. Bree?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers. Except the mystery character. He belongs to Pheonix."**

* * *

 _"Nothing is more necessary or stronger in us than rebellion."_

 **Georges Bataille** ** _, The Unfinished System of Nonknowledge_**

* * *

 _"Just because something bears the aspect of the inevitable one should not, therefore, go along willingly with it."_

 **Philip K. Dick** ** _, The Transmigration of Timothy Archer_**

* * *

 ** _Bree_**

It was just the small things that tipped her off. The subtle glares, the bristling of fur or scales, the slight baring of teeth. It took a while, and she had no idea how she hadn't noticed before.

Apollyon's demonic servants hated him just as much as she did. Maybe, deep down, Chase did, too. Maybe Apollyon could suppress this in him because he was both demon and human? Maybe Apollyon was that evil little voice in his head all along, and Chase was too used to it to really care. Whatever the case, it was becoming clear that he was the only one happy here.

It was annoying Bree to no end.

How long had they been there? A week? Several weeks? Maybe years passed in the normal world, and everyone had given up on her and Chase ever getting back.

 _They might not even be alive anymore. Might as well learn to love it here._

Bree glared at Apollyon. A few heads were clearly amused by her rebellious attitude. The others were indifferent to her. "Stop talking in my head," she hissed.

This only amused the ancient demon more. "They don't have to like it here," one head said, her voice almost a purr. "They just have to be obedient."

"We don't have to be a damn thing."

The center-most head growled, swinging around to lock eyes with the speaker. "I told you to stay silent!"

Bree looked at the offending demon curiously. She'd never seen him before. He looked completely human, but she could tell that he wasn't. He didn't even look afraid. He was just casually leaning on a pile of treasure, flipping a coin. "I'll talk when I feel like it."

Apollyon growled again and spat a ball of fire towards the offending demon. The flames hit him head on, melting the treasure pile around him. The demon, however, was just unscathed once the flames cleared. He smiled, flipping his coin still. "That was cute."

Apollyon growled and stood up, swatting the demon with a massive paw. He snorted with satisfaction when he hit the cavern wall. "You're nothing now, whelp." With that, the dragon demon moved back, slipping elegantly into a pool of lava to soak.

Chase rolled his eyes, polishing a cup. "He should've known his place."

Bree said nothing, picking up the sword. She had gotten very good at lifting it now. Whether or not she was stronger, she didn't know, but she could pick it up with ease now. What she could possibly do with it, she didn't know, but she still enjoyed the fact that she could lift the thing.

Across the cavern, the demon who had challenged Apollyon stood up, dusting himself off. He looked just fine, to be honest. He grinned and winked at her, picking up another coin and flipping it a few times. "He's not as strong as he thinks he is. He just has to be reminded of that sometimes."

Bree tilted her head, curious. "You're the one who has to remind him of that?"

"Yep," he said, grinning. "And _you_ would do well to learn how to use that sword."

"He's going to get you killed," Chase hissed. "Don't even talk to him. He's delusional."

Bree ignored Chase, moving closer to the demon. "And just _how_ am I supposed to do that?"

The man-demon grinned. "It's easy. But, for now, wait."

"Just wait?" Bree echoed, annoyed. "That's it? A lot of good you are."

He grinned, his eyes glowing with amusement. "That's it. Wait."

Bree rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She walked back over to Chase. She was clearly on her own here. It would've been nice if he hadn't raised her hopes, though.


	10. Chapter 10

**Shades of X:** **Is Bree really on her own, though?**

 **HLW:** **Is it? Or is it someone else?**

 **Phoenix:** **Keep discussing. :3**

 **DD4L:** **Never! They'll never leave!**

 **Mystic the Animus:** **"Please don't. It's my tail."**

 **Trevor?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"Never give up on someone with a mental illness. When "I" is replaced by "We", illness becomes wellness."_

 **Shannon L. Alder**

* * *

 _"I think a lot of psychopaths are just geniuses who drove so fas_ _t that they lost control."_

 **Criss Jami** ** _, Killosophy_**

* * *

 ** _Donald_**

Donald didn't think about his childhood very often, but he couldn't stop himself now. The way Douglas had been watching the hotel's desk clerk was very reminiscent of the time Douglas obsessed over a classmate who had pegged him with a rock once. It was an accident – the kid's bike wheel flung it at Douglas – but Dougie was convinced that the kid was out to get him. He spent weeks watching him, getting very little sleep each night. Papers with revenge plans and surveillance notes littered his room, and all he talked about was what his classmate did that day. It was always harmless, but Dougie always saw it as threatening somehow.

After a few months, their parents took Dougie to a psychiatrist. Donald didn't remember much about the conversation. Quite frankly, he didn't pay too much attention. The phrases "paranoia" and "delusion of persecution" floated around, but Don didn't want to hear much more. Douglas was fine, right? Besides, once Douglas was moved to a different class, his behavior returned to normal. No further intervention was needed, so Don just forgot the whole thing.

It wasn't until their father was killed that Don remembered those phrases. Suddenly, Christianity and the government were out to get him. They had already gotten their dad, right? Several nights spent awake, so many rants in which Dougie tried to connect things that were unrelated, and so many random members of both groups that Dougie had never met, but was sure were involved in their father's murder. The more time that passed, the more erratic that Dougie became. Don figured that it would fix itself, like it did years before.

Then the weapons came.

First, he learned to shoot. Then he built his own weapons. He started learning how to make bombs stronger and stronger. When the kids came along, Don was worried, but he figured that Dougie would relax with something else to focus on.

He was wrong. He was so wrong.

With the kids came the insane plans. The excited rants about protecting kids from the government and the church. The written plans of a madman, targeting public buildings like state buildings, banks and chapels. It was alarming. The second he found blueprints detailing the kids' bionics, that was it. Don took the kids, hiding them away from him and alerting the authorities. Whatever happened after that, Don didn't know until he received word of Douglas' "death."

Now, Don couldn't help but remember all of that as Douglas entered day four of watching the desk clerk. The man was clearly becoming uncomfortable, even going so far as to watch Douglas now. Donald didn't blame him at all. Douglas' sleep-deprived appearance always was more alarming than his usual self. The blood-shot eyes were the worst. It was unnerving to see someone who looked _deranged._

"See!" Douglas hissed, snapping Donald out of his thoughts.

"See what?" Don asked, annoyed.

"He _nodded_ at me!" Douglas glared at the front desk, where the clerk in question was greeting a few new guests.

"He was nodding at the elevator," Don sighed. "It _is_ behind you."

Douglas narrowed his eyes. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"A bit, yeah," Don answered honestly, rolling his eyes. "The guy's just doing his job. Honestly, you're setting a bad example for Trevor."

"He's fine," Douglas protested, gesturing at the boy in question. He was talking to the other kids in the hotel, grinning. Tasha was watching them, Bree sitting beside her with that blank stare. "See? Has Tasha been whining about him staying with me again?"

"No more than usual," Don admitted. "That's not the point, though. Remember when you thought that kid in school was out to get you?"

"This isn't like that, damn it!" Douglas snapped. "He's up to something, and I'm going to prove it."

"Leave him alone, Dougie," Don warned. "Don't make me –"

"Do what?" Douglas challenged.

Donald sighed. "Dougie, you know what happened last time."

"Bree is a vegetable, Adam is half-blind, and Leo's a handful by himself. Do you really think you want to take Trevor and add him into that mix? Besides, I'd still be here."

"Not when management finds out that you have it in for an employee," Donald warned. "How long do you think they'll put up with it?"

Douglas rolled his eyes. "Fine. But if something happens –"

"It won't," Don cut in.

"Then I get to say I told you so," Douglas huffed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, it's been awhile, but I'm back.**

 **Lab Rats Squad:** **Douglas' instincts have been wrong before, though...**

 **Phoenix and Wheaton** **: I kinda tweaked your character a bit. Hope that's alright.**

 **AzulaTano:** **I strongly believe that something is going on in that man's head that we're not seeing. O.o**

 **Shades of X:. I really, really appreciate it. :)**

 **Bree?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers. Bree's new friend belongs to Phoenix and Wheaton."**

* * *

 _"Son, the greatest trick the Devil pulled was convincing the world there was only one of him."_

 **David Wong, _John Dies at the End (John Dies at the End, #1_** )

* * *

 _"Perhaps you are making a cat's paw of me with Phillotson all this time. Upon my word it almost seems so-to see you sitting up there so prim."_

 **Thomas Hardy, _Jude the Obscure_**

* * *

 _ **Bree**_

When she could easily lift the sword with both hands and hold it a bit with one, the demon returned.

Bree had forgotten about him, since he disappeared after she saw him for the first time. Now, though, he was leaning against a pile of treasures, smiling at her. Chase growled a bit before wandering off to a different pile to continue polishing. Bree, however, was intrigued. She nodded a bit. "Hello."

The demon smiled, his teeth gleaming a bit. "Hello again. Are you ready to learn how to use that blade?"

Bree glanced at the lava pool Apollyon frequented. He might have been out at the moment, but that could change quickly.

"Don't worry about him," the demon said, casually waving her obvious concerns away. "He can't do a thing to us."

"He can't do a thing to _you_ , maybe," Bree corrected.

"He wouldn't dare bother you," he responded. "Not while I'm here."

Bree still wasn't convinced. "He's probably on his way here," she noted. "He can read my mind."

"I took care of that problem," her companion said, impatience creeping into his voice. "He can't touch your mind now."

Bree was startled. She tilted her head a bit. "How?"

"I forgot how inquisitive humans are," the demon sighed. He was smiling slightly, though. "Always asking questions. If you _must_ know, I pulled some strings."

Bree instantly wanted to know what strings he had pulled, and to whom they were attached, but she found herself looking at Chase instead.

Seeming to read her thoughts, the demon frowned. "No, no, my child. Polly has too strong of a hold on your brother. He is convinced that the voice of Apollyon is his own, and that he's acting of his own accord, even though he's not. There's nothing we can do for him." After a pause, the corner of the demon's mouth twitched slightly. "You know how gullible your brother can be."

"So that evil little voice in his head was Apollyon this whole time?" Bree asked slowly. "He just convinced Chase that it was his own thoughts?"

The demon nodded. "Polly is called The Father of Lies for a reason. He is very good at what he does."

"Then why could he ignore the voices on Earth?" Bree found herself asking.

"Because Apollyon isn't strong enough to exercise any control over him across the veil that separates these worlds. It depends on whether or not the person wants to listen to him there. Here, they would have no choice."

Bree furrowed her brow. "They?"

The demon sighed again at the question. "I'm starting to think you don't want to learn how to use the sword."

"I do," Bree said quickly. "But...well..."

"Yes, a few humans can hear the wicked chattering of Apollyon in their heads," the demon answered. "Even fewer listen. Something usually has to trigger the shift in their mental state to allow them to hear Polly." He pushed away from the treasure pile. "Now lift the sword. We don't have all night."

Bree wanted to press for more information on the subject, but her mentor was clearly finished. "Why bother? It's not like I can fight my way out of here and back home."

"You can," the demon said, smiling. "You just have to know how." He casually yanked a smaller sword from a treasure pile. "Now, remember to be careful with that. The blade can cut through anything."

Bree sighed, lifting it as high as her opponent's sword. Maybe this would prove useful at some point, but she couldn't see it doing much at the moment.

The demon lunged suddenly, the steel of his blade flashing towards her. Bree yelped as her sword suddenly went flying from her grip, her arm jarred painfully by the force of the blow. "What the hell?" she snapped, rubbing her hand.

The demon spread his arms wide. "Why didn't you stop me?"

Bree scowled, picking up the sword again. "You didn't exactly warn me."

He tilted his head, confusion written across his face. "You need an invitation to defend yourself?"

Bree ground her teeth, but sighed. "Fine. Let's try again." This time, she barely got the blade lifted before it was flying from her hand again, her arm burning.

Her mentor grinned playfully. "This is why I'm here. You need to learn how to use that."

Bree snorted, muttering. "I don't recall asking for your help."

"You didn't," the demon answered, "but a friend of your brother's did."

When he nodded at Chase's back, Bree frowned. The only real friend he had outside of the family was Sam. "How did she -"

" _He_ ," corrected the demon.

"He?" Bree rubbed her eyes, confused. After a moment of thinking over everybody it could possibly be, she looked up again. "He who?"

The demon waved casually. "You've never met him. He died before you were born."

Bree was more confused by this statement. "Chase is younger than me, though. How could _he_ possibly know this guy?"

He grinned. "The thin veil on Samhain afforded Chase the opportunity you never had. Now, lift your sword. Oh, and stop thinking of me as a demon. I'm not."

Bree, both confused by the explanation and surprised by the statement that followed, had trouble finding words. He could hear her thoughts?

"Absolutely. Just because we can stop Apollyon from hearing you, doesn't mean that we can't." He gestured at the sword on the ground. "Come on, my child. Pick up your sword."

Bree picked up the sword. If he wasn't a demon, then what was he? "What _should_ I call you, then?"

"I have many names in many different languages," he answered vaguely.

"What about in _my_ language?" Bree asked, confused.

The man - creature? - grinned. "My name is unimportant. But, if you _have_ to call me something, I suppose you can simply call me Mors."

Bree nodded. "Okay, then."

"Good." Mors then pointed at her. "Now, lift your sword, and let's try again."

* * *

" _If you're reading this...Congratulations, you're alive. If that's not something to smile about, then I don't know what is."_

 **Chad Sugg, _Monsters Under Your Head_**

* * *

 _"It is often in the darkest skies that we see the brightest stars."_

 **Richard Evans**

* * *

 ** _Samantha_**

As it turned out, escaping to the surface was easier than she thought it would be. On their daily jogs through the sewers, all Sam had to do was fall to the back of the group, then slowly let them outrun her. Eventually, the group was out of sight, and Sam was able to climb through a manhole to freedom. Bonus prize: All the magic that was ringing in her ears since the Hunters found her faded, easing her headache significantly.

The hard part started there. All of the landmarks she remembered were gone. In fact, the whole of Mission Creek was gone. All that was left were ruins. It would be much, much harder to find the Davenport mansion now, much less any secret passage beneath it.

Sam wished Kevin had been just a bit more descriptive. It certainly would've helped.

With the knowledge that the Hunters would eventually notice her absence and come looking, she started making her way through the wasteland as best as she could. If the ruined streets made a turn that she thought was familiar, she followed it. If she could've sworn that the rubble looked like it came from a building she knew, she would let that guide her.

Unfortunately, many streets curved, and many buildings were made of similar material. Finally, Sam was forced to admit that she was hopelessly lost in her own hometown. How humiliating.

Sam sat on a sturdy chunk of concrete, sighing. This was a hopeless mission, anyways. She should've stayed with the Hunters. Even if, by some miracle, she found this secret lab in the rubble of her friend's home, there was no guarantee that Douglas was even there anymore. _Then_ how would she find him? She couldn't search blindly forever!

In the midst of her hopelessness, Sam finally noticed that she could hear ringing again. A few craters had rung with remnants of the magic that was used to create them, but she had picked _this_ particular spot because it was quiet.

Sam subconsciously drew out a small knife that the Hunters had given to those they rescued and looked around, bracing herself. A demon, no matter how awesome it might be, wasn't about to get her without a fight.

After a second, the ringing stopped. Sam narrowed her eyes. The demon was in its original form now. So be it.

The silence was broken again by gleeful laughter. "What do you plan on doing with that thing? Tickling me?"

Relief washed over Sam as she grinned and put her knife away. "Oly!"

The small imp climbed over a section of what was likely a roof, showing herself to Sam. "Of all the people I expected to survive," she said, "you were not one."

Sam picked Oly up, letting the gargoyle climb on her shoulder. "You have _no_ idea how happy I am to see you. What are you doing out here?"

Oly snorted, brushing dust off her wings as she explained. "Master wants me to find his boyfriend. I say he's dead, but nobody ever listens to me."

"He's not dead," Sam responded, wincing a bit. "But he's not doing that great. The Hunters have him, and they're planning on tracking Douglas down now."

Oly shrugged. "Not my problem. I was just told to find him, not rescue him."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Right. The point is that I need to find Douglas."

"He's in Los Angeles now," provided the little gargoyle. "The whole family evacuated a few days ago."

Sam nodded. "Then let's go."

Oly frowned as Sam started walking south. "Why? Master can take care of himself. Besides, it's nice here, and Los Angeles is so far away."

"It's not like you're putting in any effort," Sam pointed out. "You're riding on my shoulder."

As if accenting the point that Sam was basically her human steed, Oly stretched out casually across Sam's shoulders. "So?"

"So _shut up_ ," Sam answered, carefully navigating an unstable bit of debris. "Or I'll drop you down in the sewers with the Hunters just to spare me from your whining, _princess_."

Oly snorted a laugh. "Have I ever told you that I like you? Because I do."

Sam smiled. At least she had a friend to talk to, because she was in for a long walk.


	12. Chapter 12

**Back with Chapter 12!**

 **Shades of X : ****Mors is….complicated. Very, very complicated.**

 **Missy?**

 **"** **Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"_ _The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it."_

 **Oscar Wilde,** ** _The Picture of Dorian Gray_**

* * *

 _"_ _I can resist anything except temptation."_

 **Oscar** **Wilde** , **_Lady Windermere's Fan_**

* * *

 ** _Missy_**

"Where is it?"

Missy jumped at the unexpected words. Kevin was the last person she had ever expected to hear again. She glanced at the man, wondering if his constant fever was causing him to talk in his sleep or something. She was surprised to find him looking right at her, his eyes half-crazed. His voice, though weak and shaking, held a hint of desperation as he repeated himself. "Where is it, Missy?"

Missy frowned, tilting her head slightly. "Where is what?"

"James had it," Kevin went on, as if it he never heard her. "He said I could have it if I told him about Soad. Where does he keep it?"

Missy winced, suddenly understanding what he was asking for. "I haven't seen James in two days," she responded carefully. "He didn't tell me about this little drug deal."

Kevin scowled. "Don't judge me. I'm dying, anyways."

"You should die clean," Missy responded. "You don't need amphetamines."

"Who cares?" Kevin sighed, rubbing his eyes.

Missy wanted to point out that whatever his boyfriend's name was probably cared, but she didn't want to evoke a loved one like that. Kevin likely wouldn't listen, anyways. She sighed, trying to think of reasons as to why he should abandon the thoughts of relapsing while he was still lucid enough to listen. "James probably hid them before he left."

"Then _find_ them," Kevin groaned. "I just need one. That's all..."

Missy found herself remembering the other times she had heard him desperately saying that exact thing as he sold out demons left and right. She had always felt bad about taking advantage of his addiction like that. It seemed so wrong to encourage someone to self-destruct just for the sake of a few demons. James, however, never listened to her concerns. _He's just a drug addict,_ he would say. _Basic scum of society. Nobody cares about him, and they never will. As long as he keeps talking, I'm going to keep giving him pills._

Missy didn't think James even understood what was so disgusting about that point of view. It had always remained a sore spot between them.

"If I tell _you_ how to beat Soad, will you find them?"

Missy was drawn back to the present by Kevin's offer. On one hand, she didn't want to encourage him, but...

Soad needed to be destroyed. If Kevin had the knowledge to do it, she needed to know it.

After a moment, Missy sighed. "Fine, but I'm not telling your boyfriend that you broke your sobriety."

"Dougie doesn't need to know," Kevin responded. "Please, don't ever tell him. He'd be so disappointed."

Missy sighed again. "I guess. So...how _do_ we beat Soad?"

Kevin started to sit up, but, after a moment of fumbling attempts, stayed laying down. "If he's using magic, his scales weaken. The stronger the effect, the weaker they become. Hell, missiles barely phased him until he was trying to do something to Dougie. Had a ring of fire around him and everything. _That's_ when we actually drew blood. If you get him to focus his energy somewhere other than his defenses, he's vulnerable." After a pause, he fixed Missy with a look. "Can I have them now? Please?"

Missy nodded, but her thoughts were clinging to this new information. It sounded like Soad had finite energy. Was there a way to get him to use so much of it at once with such focus that he wouldn't even notice someone aiming a gun at him until it was too late? "Is there something we could use as bait?"

Kevin narrowed his eyes. "I told you everything I know," he muttered defensively. "You said you would find the pills, not ask more questions."

Missy instantly got the vibe that he knew the answer to that question, but didn't want to discuss it. So, instead of pushing it, she just nodded again. "Let me go dig through James' things." With that, she turned away from Kevin, trotting through the tunnel until she ran into the one person she wanted to see. "Paul?"

A kind, elderly man looked up from something he was writing, smiling at her. "Hello, dear," he said. "Did you need something?"

Missy smiled. Of all the survivors who had found their way into the sewers, she was glad that Paul was one. A doctor for twenty years, he was by far one of the most valuable people they had. "I was curious," she began. "Is there a way to save James' prisoner? Anything at all?"

Paul frowned. "Well, I would normally use antibiotics, but we don't have any. Even if we did, though, he still might not make it. James let the infection spread too far before bringing him here."

"There has to be something," she insisted. She told herself that it was because Kevin knew the bait to use for Soad, but she honestly didn't want to see him die. She remembered Kevin was a real sweetheart and a good friend, when he wasn't desperate for his next fix. She would miss him if he died, and she definitely wouldn't forgive herself if she didn't do anything to prevent it.

"Well, there is one thing," Paul responded hesitantly. "He might not survive it, though."

"He _definitely_ won't survive if we don't try something," Missy insisted.

Paul nodded. "Then I'm going to need a tourniquet and a lot of disinfectant. Oh, and he needs to take strong sleeping pills. We don't want him waking up right in the middle of this."

Missy grinned. "I can get him to take the pills." Hopefully, he'd be too sick to notice the difference between sleeping pills and amphetamines until he was asleep. "Is there anything else you need?"

Paul nodded, his expression grim. "A saw."

* * *

 _"_ _Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply."_

 **Stephen R. Covey** , **_The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change_**

* * *

 _"_ _When people talk, listen completely. Most people never listen."_

 **Ernest Hemingway**

* * *

 ** _Douglas_**

Douglas glared at the man at the front counter, squeezing the arms of his chair. The man was ignoring him, writing something as he did his nightly chores. Douglas was honestly glad that he was alone in the lobby this time. Donnie had started to pester him about the man, and it was annoying.

Outside, the headlights from the occasional car shined in the windows of the front door, reminding Douglas that it was still the middle of the night, and he really should be asleep upstairs. But he still couldn't sleep, and he didn't want to wake Trevor up by pacing around the room or something. He had just started to sleep soundly at night. Douglas didn't want to ruin it.

Douglas was so focused that he jumped a bit when someone plopped down in the chair next to him. He glanced over only to sigh. Great. Tasha was the _last_ person he wanted to talk to at the moment.

She smiled slightly at Douglas. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, mother," he huffed, looking back at the counter.

She raised her eyebrow. "Then why are you down here?"

Douglas sighed as the man behind the desk left his post and crossed the lobby, disappearing into a different room. "Is it really any of your business? Besides, I don't hear you explaining why you're down here."

"I couldn't sleep," Tasha responded with a shrug. "I ordered some coffee. I figured it would be easier just to wait for it down here instead of having someone knock on the door and wake everybody up."

Douglas nodded after a second. "I couldn't sleep, either. Didn't want to wake Trevor up."

Tasha nodded as the desk clerk returned, holding two cups of coffee. He handed one to Tasha, then offered the second one to Douglas.

Douglas narrowed his eyes. "No, thanks. I didn't order anything."

"It's complimentary," the man explained with a smile.

Douglas set his jaw, but took the cup carefully. "Thanks," he said with a tight smile. He watched the man walk away, then set the cup down. He had no intention of drinking anything that man touched.

Tasha rolled her eyes. "It's fine, Douglas. He's not out to get you."

Douglas shot her a look. "You don't know that."

Tasha took his cup and sipped it, then set it down. After a moment, she shrugged. "See? Harmless."

Reluctantly, Douglas picked the coffee up again and drank some. He couldn't say that he wasn't grateful for it. He was exhausted, to say the least.

"Do you really have that big of a problem with him?"

Douglas glanced at Tasha. "He's…he just…."

Tasha nodded. "Oh, I see. _So_ threatening."

Douglas glared at her. "Shut up. There's something off about him. I know there is."

"Like your classmate in school?"

Douglas was momentarily startled. "Exactly what has Donnie told you about that?"

Tasha shrugged, innocently drinking more coffee.

"This is _different,_ " Douglas insisted.

"Of course," Tasha patronized. "Why, though? Why is it different? What has he actually done?"

That set Douglas off. He started describing every little thing he could remember. Every little glare, every gesture, every conversation the man had that Douglas found suspicious. And, surprisingly, Tasha listened. She didn't interrupt like Don would. She didn't try to disprove him. She just listened, nodding occasionally. It was nice, and Douglas found that he felt better when he exhausted both the stories and the coffee in his cup. "See?" he said afterwards. "He's threatenin'."

Tasha frowned at the sentence. "Are you drunk?"

Douglas shook his head, an act that made his head spin slightly. "No. I jus' drank coffee."

"You're not lyin', are you?" Tasha asked, slurring her words.

Douglas frowned now. "No, but are you sure _you're_ no' drunk?"

Tasha scowled. "I don' drink."

Douglas opened his mouth to protest when Tasha yawned, her eyes closing. "Are you okay?"

Tasha nodded, her eyes still closed. "Jus' tired."

Douglas frowned more. She shouldn't be tired. Neither should he, as a matter of fact. They had both drank coffee. It was almost like….

Douglas' eyes widened. The more he thought about it, the more he recognized the symptoms of Rohypnol. They had been drugged. Douglas stood up as fast as he could – why wasn't his body cooperating? – and started stumbling towards the elevator to find Donnie to help.

Unfortunately, Douglas went down on his knees about halfway there, and everything faded into darkness.


	13. Chapter 13

**Here we are, Heroes 13.**

 **AzulaTano:** **Exactly. No witnesses.**

 **Eternally Lachambers:** **Cool it. You should know to trust me by now.**

 **Warning: The end of the chapter gets quite suggestive. I think it's mild, but it's more on-the-nose than I've been before, so good luck with that.**

 **Bree?**

 **"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

* * *

 _"The mistake is thinking that there can be an antidote to the uncertainty."_

 **David Levithan** ** _, The Lover's Dictionary_**

* * *

 _"Risk means 'shit happens' or 'good luck.'"_

 **Toba Beta, Betelgeuse Incident** ** _: Insiden Bait Al-Jauza_**

* * *

 ** _Bree_**

"Bree, stay away from him."

Bree glared at Chase as she polished a cup. This wasn't the first time he had started this conversation. "I don't need your input."

Chase pinned his ears. "He's going to get you killed. This is a suicide mission you're on, anyways. There's nothing you can do with your little sword that is going to save us."

Bree rolled her eyes, refusing to look at Apollyon, who was simply using Chase as his mouthpiece. "I know what I'm doing, Chase. Don't get involved."

"You're my sister," he hissed. "I'll get involved if I want." He rested a hand on her shoulder. "I don't want to see you get hurt."

She shrugged him off. "I won't get hurt."

He picked up a small coin, rubbing it with his cloth while his half-tail lashed. "You're attempting to take on the most powerful demon in history with nothing more than a stupid little sword. How far did you think you'd get?"

Bree set her jaw. "Who said I was going to fight anybody with the sword?"

"You aren't practicing for nothing," Chase growled. "It's going to culminate in a battle. You're just a _human._ A lowly mortal. You stand no chance."

Bree scowled. "I'm not planning on fighting _anybody._ Get that through your head."

Chase sighed, some smoke starting to rise from his fingers. "Like I said, you're not training for fun."

Bree frowned, glancing at his hand. "Chase-"

"Mors is going to get you killed," he continued casually, small flames licking around his hand now. "He just wants to pick a fight with Apollyon, and he's using you as his pawn."

"He's not-"

The coin started to glow red. "You're caught between two titans, and you don't even know it."

Bree wanted to slap the coin out of Chase's hand. He _had_ to be getting burned. " _Chase-"_

"You'll never win," Chase growled. The coin started to melt in his hand, molten gold dripping onto the floor of the cave. " _Stop trying._ "

Bree watched as he shook his hand off, the fire disappearing and the gold droplets flicking off of his skin haphazardly. She was startled – and relieved – to see that his hand was perfectly fine. No burns, no blisters, nothing. She had no idea that his control of fire extended to an extreme resistance to the heat. He stalked off, his half-tail lashing.

Bree suppressed a shudder. Mors couldn't possibly be trying to kill her in this whole thing, right? What would that accomplish? Unless….

Unless he really _was_ a demon, and was only lying to her. Maybe he wanted to take a stab at Apollyon without putting himself at risk, so he was using her to do it. Bree glared at the dragon-demon that plagued her and her brother for who-knew-how-long. Maybe he was just trying to fill her head with lies. He had to be good at it. It was many millennia old, after all.

Bree sighed, glancing at the sword. She hoped learning how to use it would help, even if she had to wield it against both her enemy _and_ her teacher.

* * *

 _"There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature."_

 **Jane Austen**

* * *

 _"Beware the fury of a patient man."_

 **John Dryden**

* * *

 ** _Tasha_**

"Douglas? Wake up, please."

Against her back, Douglas shifted a bit, muttering. "I'm _sleeping._ Leave me alone."

Tasha whimpered a bit, straining against the rope that bound her wrists behind her back. She didn't look at him. She couldn't take her eyes off the gun in her face. " _Douglas-"_

"Tasha, shut _up._ My head hurts."

A headache wouldn't matter if they were dead. Tasha met the eyes of whoever the man pointing his gun at her was. Not to mention that they were in a disgusting _sewer_. Nothing about the situation made her want to be left alone. Her captor actually smiled a bit, as if that would help her feel better about the situation. "But they have _guns,_ Douglas."

Douglas shifted again, muttering a few drowsy cuss words. Maybe he got a bigger dose than she did. "I have guns."

"But you don't point them at me."

After a second of silence, Douglas moved a bit more. Why they had tied them together, she would never know. "Fine. I'm up. What dead fucker is pointing a gun at you?"

"You're not exactly in a position to be making threats," a man behind her answered. "We're aiming at you, too."

"Fun," Douglas grumbled sarcastically before yawning loudly. Tasha felt the binds move a bit as Douglas tried to stretch, but he didn't get far. "Oh, tied up, too. Kinky. What's this? Some kind of R-rated boy scout club?"

Tasha rolled her eyes, forgetting the situation for a split second. "That's _disgusting_."

"Don't kink-shame me," Douglas hissed. "It's fun mixing things up. You and Don should-ow!"

A dull cracking sound silenced Douglas' rant. Tasha sucked in her breath as she was forced to remember the danger they were in. After a second of silence, Douglas spoke again. "Why the hell did you do that? And you used the wrong end. You're supposed to _shoot_ guns, not club people with them."

"You annoyed me," the fourth man explained.

"I annoy a _lot_ of people," Douglas responded. "Get the hell over it."

"It's like you want to be shot," the man responded, very clearly becoming angry.

Tasha tugged a bit on the rope that bound her hands to Douglas' own when the guard she could see moved his gun to point at Douglas. "Stop antagonizing them!"

Douglas ignored her. "Oh, yes, I do!" His voice dropped a few octaves as he challenged them. "You won't do it, though. You don't have the balls."

Tasha winced when her guard tensed a bit. " _Douglas_ -"

"Enough!"

The fifth voice made Tasha flinch. She had expected the next thing she heard to be a gunshot, not a person.

"You heard the man," Douglas hissed. "Down. That's a good boy."

"Enough from you, too," the newcomer snapped. "Or you'll swallow lead."

Douglas snorted. "You didn't go through the effort to get us here just to kill us."

After a second of silence, Tasha's guard spoke. "There's nothing stopping us from shooting you both."

"Clearly, there is," Douglas countered. "We'd be dead already, if that was what you wanted. I've been in this situation too many times to be tricked into thinking otherwise. I wasn't the prisoner, usually, but-"

"The longer you talk, the worse your boyfriend's condition becomes."

Douglas fell silent at this. Tasha twisted her head around as much as she could, trying to memorize the details she could see. She couldn't get a good look at the two men by Douglas, but she could at least try. If they escaped, anything she remembered would help.

Finally, Douglas shifted a bit. "I've seen you a couple of times, but I don't remember your name."

"James," the fifth man - Tasha was quickly figuring out that he was the leader - answered. "What, did Kevin never get around to that little detail?"

"Where is he?" Douglas asked in a calm, quiet voice.

Tasha shivered. She had never heard him use that tone of voice, but she suddenly felt like she was tied to a snake that was coiling up to strike. Her guard shot another smile at her, but his reassuring expression did little to ease her fear.

"You learn when I do," James answered. "Sound fair? You answer my questions, then I'll answer yours. Deal?"

"Where is he?" Douglas repeated in the same dangerous tone. "What did you do to him?"

"I ask _first_ ," James insisted, impatience lacing his words. "What's Soad's weakness?"

"I don't know," Douglas responded. "Where's Kevin?"

"You know-"

"I know jack shit about Soad," Douglas snapped, finally letting his emotions take some control. " _Where is Kevin?"_

"One's as stubborn as the other," Tasha heard James mutter. "Get them separated so we can move them."

Tasha saw her guard nod before moving close by her. She leaned away a bit impulsively as he crouched down and started tugging lightly at her wrists. After a moment, she felt the ropes around her wrists fall away.

Instantly, Douglas was no longer against her. The guard she couldn't see yelped in surprise, but the sound was cut short by a sharp cracking noise. Tasha was hauled roughly to her feet a second later amid a flurry of disorienting sounds. She was whipped around to find herself staring down the barrel of a gun again while her guard held her arms behind her back. "Drop it, or I shoot," James snarled, flicking the thing Douglas called the safety. She didn't need to know about guns to know that it was now dangerous.

Tasha felt a wave of fear swell up in her. She swallowed down a sob, but a whimper still escaped as she glanced at Douglas, blood dripping down his forehead from where he had been hit, who was aiming a gun at James. On the ground beside him, the only remaining person she hadn't seen was lying still, his glossed eyes wide with surprise and his neck at an unnatural angle.

It hadn't ever occurred to her that Douglas could not only kill somebody with his bare hands, but that he still had enough agility and strength to do it in _seconds._

Douglas took a step towards James when the guard pressed the barrel of his own gun to Tasha's head. "You shoot James, and she still dies."

Douglas' violently angry expression softened considerably as his eyes flicked between the two men and Tasha herself. For a wild second, she thought he would still attack. However, he finally crouched down, set the gun he took from the dead guard on the concrete at his feet, and stood up again, his hands raised in surrender. He locked eyes with her as he spoke. "She has nothing to do with this. She hates demons as much as the next guy. She even tried to ban them from the house." He narrowed his eyes slightly, as it trying to communicate something to her. "You know us Summoners, don't you? We do whatever we want. She couldn't stop me no matter how hard she tried. She was just left picking up the messes my demons made."

Tasha shuddered a bit, frightened and confused despite the fact that her guard wasn't pressing a gun to her head anymore. What could Douglas possibly be doing? He was making himself look worse to these men! It was insane! Why would he paint himself as a dangerous loose cannon and her as the helpless victim in all of this?

James didn't take his eyes off Douglas. "Is that so?"

Douglas nodded. "I even use demon energy to cast glamours on her sometimes, just to get my way." His eyes bored into hers intensely. " _Especially_ to have my way when Kevin isn't around."

Tasha's jaw dropped open. He did _not_ just imply-

"A summoning rapist?" James wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Douglas' eyes bored intensely into her, trying to get her to understand _something_. "Oh, please. She _loves_ it."

"Only because of your demon spell," Tasha's guard practically growled over her shoulder. He loosened his restraining hold a bit.

It was this palpable shift from prisoner to victim that made Tasha understand what Douglas was doing. If he made her out to be his hostage, the two men would treat her quite a bit differently than if they thought she was Douglas' friend.

By the same token, he had just worsened the situation for himself. They would likely be much crueler to a man they thought was capable of something like that. Even to the point of murder, once Douglas came up with an answer to the Soad problem like they wanted.

Tasha felt tears well up in her eyes. An odd mixture of touched by the sacrifice and fear of the situation caused them to flow freely, forcing her to bite down a sob.

James nodded towards Douglas, his skeptical expression melting away at what he had to assume were tears born of her being overwhelmed by salvation after all the supposed torture Douglas put her through. "Get him tied up _very_ tightly. We don't want him running away before we get to Mission Creek."

Douglas snorted as the guard let go of Tasha and scrambled over to Douglas, tying his hands behind his back again. "I'm going to be running _towards_ Mission Creek, not away. Kevin's my favorite." With that, he glanced at Tasha again, the corner of his mouth twitching in a slight smile.

Tasha had to bite down another sob.


End file.
